


Will You Be There To Follow

by Avery_Kedavra



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Food, M/M, Mentions of murder and kidnapping, Queerplatonic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, also arson, but in a joking way! remus yknow?, this is absolutely plotless fluff okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28079064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avery_Kedavra/pseuds/Avery_Kedavra
Summary: Remus suggests getting a pet. It's a terrible, spur-of-the-moment, ridiculous idea--so, naturally, Janus is completely on board.
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 11
Kudos: 99
Collections: QPR Dukeceit Week 2020





	Will You Be There To Follow

**Author's Note:**

> I’m back! And I bring fluff! I have a million other things I should be doing, but @qprdukeceitweek has this adorable list of prompts for this week, and I figured I’d write something for a few of them! It was a good excuse to write completely plotless, rambling fluff. Plus my own QPP @becca-becky likes Dukeceit, so I couldn’t not.
> 
> (Title from Anywhere I Go by Vicetone.)

Remus and Janus weren’t exactly a _typical_ couple.

They’d met in college. At three in the morning, when Remus was frantically looking for the fire extinguisher and barged into Janus’ room by mistake. After successfully putting out the flaming Hot Pockets and thwarting the teachers, Remus had offered Janus an ashy hand and an invitation to hang out. Janus agreed.

Now they were partners, lodged in the sketchiest apartment in town, and they’d only gotten in trouble with the law twice! Janus worked at the local tattoo parlor while Remus scraped his way to a bachelor’s degree. They lived off a diet of ramen and cola. Remus had suggested marriage to make taxes easier, and Janus argued that they’d be succumbing to the system.

Remus proposed anyway. Janus said yes.

So they weren’t typical, but they _had_ followed the usual milestones--graduate, move out, get married. Janus looked viscerally horrified when Remus reminded him of this. He suggested they escape to the mountains, in order to escape the pressure of the status quo. Remus said he didn’t mind doing all the normal stuff if Jan was there, and anyway, quietly subverting expectations was the _best_. Janus rolled his eyes.

Graduate. Move out. Get married. Obviously, the next step was making a family--and Remus didn’t really want or _need_ a family, but it was a good thing to tease Janus about. And a good way to make sure they were still on the same page.

That entire thought process made since to Remus.

So he wasn’t really sure why Janus almost shrieked when Remus asked “Do you want to get a baby?”

* * *

“ _What?”_ Janus managed after a few seconds. “A _baby?”_

“Mhm!” Remus continued chopping the carrots. “You wanna get one?”

“ _Get_ one?” Janus repeated. “What do you want a _baby_ for?”

“I don’t, I’m just seeing if you do!” Remus shrugged. “And ‘cause of the usual baby things, right? Keep us company.”

“A sniveling infant will definitely be _wonderful_ company.” Janus turned around to look at Remus, with his classic _I’m-not-sure-whether-to-laugh_ face. “Where’d you get _this_ idea?”

“It’s, like, the usual order, right?” Remus spread out his hands, and Janus ducked to avoid the carrot knife. “Move into apartment. Get married. Have baby. Have another baby. Go to soccer practice. Mortgage the house. Have an affair. Read a lot of newspapers. Slowly grow to loathe each other.”

Janus snickered. “I’m not keen on _any_ of that.”

“Well, we could just grab a baby and see if we like it?” Remus asked. “We could always put it back later.”

“We could--” Janus blinked at him and snickered again. “Whose baby would this be?”

“Ours!”

“How would we _get_ it, then?”

“Adoption!” Remus suggested. “Or kidnapping.”

“I _knew_ it!” Janus declared. “I _knew_ this was another attempt at getting permission for kidnapping.”

“Aw, but it’s just a baby! It won’t mind!” Remus stuck out his bottom lip. “We can steal it from rich people. Please?”

“I’m not sure if my usual ‘steal only from the rich’ rule applies to newborn _children_.”

“We could train it up!” Remus continued, grinning. “Teach it the ways of the world. And then it can carry on our legacy.”

Janus dried his hands. “What legacy?”

“Subterfuge, sappiness, and systematically undermining the government.”

“Right, right, that legacy.” Janus laughed. “Be that as it may, I’m not exactly eager to change diapers. Get me a baby that doesn’t poop, cry, or need any sort of food, and we’re golden.”

“Hmm,” Remus said, scrunching up his face. “So you just want a talking baby doll.”

“No!” Janus folded his arms. “Those always murder you.”

“It’d be a wild way to go, though.” Remus rocked back and forth on the kitchen floor. Janus carefully took the knife from his hand and put it in the sink. “What’s something couples do instead of babies--”

“We’re not exactly a traditional couple,” Janus pointed out. “Most couples kiss each other, and don’t have a warrant for their arrest in Oklahoma.”

“That was completely not my fault.” Remus thought for a few more seconds. “Oh! Oh, Jan! We could get a _pet!”_

Janus tilted his head. “That would solve _some_ of the problems.”

“We could get a pet,” Remus said, warming to the idea, “and we could hang out with it! And if it was a big one, it could guard the door from thieves.”

“A pet,” Janus repeated, and Remus squealed when he saw Janus start to nod. “That’s not a terrible idea, actually. Even if it is upholding outdated marital traditions.”

“Nah, animals are way beyond all that!” Remus spread his hands. “It’s a cool living organism! All blood and bones and sinew! Don’t classify pets with, like, amatonormativity.”

“Hmm,” Janus said. “How much would a pet cost?”

“Depends on the pet, right?”

“Hmm,” Janus said again. “And what pet would you suggest--”

Remus beamed. “Spider monkey.”

“ _What?_ ”

“It’s a monkey! But it’s really long.” Remus wiggled his fingers to convey the length. “I wonder if it eats spiders or just looks like one.”

“We are not getting a pet _monkey_ ,” Janus said. “They poop.”

“Every animal poops, Jan, you’re not getting out of that one.”

“Ugh,” Janus complained. “Plus I’m pretty sure that’s an illegal pet--”

“So?”

“ _So_ illegal pets wouldn’t be happy in the apartment,” Janus said. “Either that, or they’re endangered and poached. We’re going to aim for a _legal_ pet here.”

“Well, there go half my ideas!” Remus pouted. “What pet do _you_ wanna get, buzzkill?”

“I don’t know,” Janus said, leaning against the counter. “We decided on this three seconds ago, I haven’t searched the whole catalog.”

“Are there pet catalogs?”

“There are probably lists online.” Janus’ hand drifted towards his pocket before he glanced at the half-chopped carrots and various kitchen implements. “We need to make lunch first, though--”

“Nope!” Remus threw open the cupboard and grabbed a bag of chips. “Makeshift lunch. Let’s go.”

Janus watched him with a small smile. “You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?”

“Idea!” Remus said by way of explanation. “ _Animal!”_

“Animal,” Janus agreed, giving the carrots a regretful look before leading the way into the living room. “Pass the chips.”

Remus tossed him the chip bag and flopped onto the couch. The couch gave its usual pitiful squeak, and Remus kicked his feet up onto the armrest just to spite it. Janus curled into the other corner of the couch and pulled out his phone.

“Okay, here’s a list of possible pets,” he said. “We could--”

“Hold on!” Remus raised a finger before rolling off the couch. He yanked at the mass of papers under the couch before pulling out a sheaf of poster paper and pulling it over the TV. “Meeting time?”

“Alright,” Janus shrugged and grabbed a nearby marker. “I can write.”

“Cool!” Remus yanked away the remnants of the last meeting’s notes, which involved a parking lot vandalism and choices of flannels. “This meeting shall come to order. The subject is possible pets.”

“I’ll write a list and we can work through the possibilities.” Janus uncapped the marker and scribbled a header for the list. “Let’s see…cat, dog, fish…”

“Hamster,” Remus suggested, collapsing back onto the couch. “Gerbil? What’s the difference?”

“Guinea pigs too,” Janus added. “Birds--”

“Birds is a category.”

“So?”

“If birds are all one entry, blend together the hamsters and guinea pigs.”

“I already wrote them--” Janus sighed and wrote _birds, etc_. on the paper. “Happy?”

“Weasels,” Remus said. “Ferrets. Monkeys.”

Janus wrote down weasels and ferrets, but not monkeys. “Snakes. Snails.”

“Snails?” Remus repeated.

“Hermit crabs.”

“People have pet _crabs?”_

“Geckos,” Janus continued, seemingly unfazed. “Spiders--”

“Spiders?” Remus almost yelled. “Where are you _getting_ this stuff?”

“Old roommate in college was a total animal lover,” Janus said. “Hmm...ants.”

“We’re not getting ants,” Remus said.

“Shh, voting comes later.” Janus stepped back and tapped the marker on his chin. “Is that all?”

“Frogs?” Remus suggested. He wasn’t sure if they could be pets, but maybe if he spitballed animals, he’d land on a correct one. “Zebras? Rats? Dragons? Hedgehogs?”

“Two or three of those are real, I think,” Janus said. He wrote down most of them, disappointingly leaving out dragons. “Aren’t there more kinds of lizards?”

“Write lizards, etc, like the coward you are.” Remus wriggled back and forth on the couch. “Rabbits?”

“Rabbits,” Janus agreed. “Mice. Turtles?”

“Don’t ask me, you’re the expert-by-proxy.”

“There’s got to be a few more.” Janus read through the list. “Are goats pets?”

“Are horses?”

“We can’t fit a _horse_ in our apartment.”

“You said it wasn’t the veto stage yet,” Remus pointed out.

Janus groaned and wrote _horse_ on the list. “Anything else, before I can quickly cross out horse?”

Remus kicked his feet in the air as he thought. “Tiger?”

“Not a pet.”

“Only if you’re a coward.”

“Let’s just say that’s all the pets,” Janus said. “Can I cross out horse now?”

Remus sighed. “Fine.”

Janus crossed out _horse_ gleefully and with vigor.

“Now cross out ants,” Remus said. “They’re only good for eating.”

“I sincerely hope you’re referring to _their_ eating.”

Remus grinned.

Janus crossed out _ants_ and skimmed the list. “I’m not too keen on snails, are you?”

“I still think you’re making them up.”

“Snails _exist_.”

“Not as pets!” Remus waved a hand. “Toss ‘em.”

“Alright.” Janus edited the list. “No fish.”

“What?” Remus frowned. “Why?”

“They’re absolute nonentities! Why get a fish when you can just be lonely?” Janus shrugged. “Besides, I am ninety percent sure you’d eat the fish.”

Remus crossed his arms. “That rules out _all_ the pets, then!”

“Ew.” Janus sighed. “I’ll just cross off the smallest ones, to be safe. No mice, no frogs--okay, one of the gerbil-hamster-guinea-pigs are smaller than the others, but I have no _idea_ which one--”

“Cross ‘em all off,” Remus said. “We’re not seven, we can do better.”

“If you say so.” Janus crossed off the several similar rodents. “Thoughts on hermit crabs?”

“Crunchy!”

“They don’t exactly possess personality.” Janus paused before scribbling through the hermit crabs, then the hedgehogs.

“Hey, c’mon, we vote first!” Remus leaned over and grabbed at the marker. “What’s wrong with hedgehogs?”

Janus looked contemptuous. “Pointy.”

“Yeah, we can use them as projectiles!”

“Oh, good point.” Janus readied his marker. “Eliminate all animals that you could possibly use as a weapon.”

“Aw, come on, Jan!” Remus snatched at the marker again. “At least lemme keep the ones that would survive it!”

“No.” Janus laughed. “Okay, but seriously, we aren’t getting a bird. I have enough birds in my life already.”

“The pigeons wanna be your friend,” Remus said. “Let them.”

“The pigeons have declared war after you fed them hot cheetos.” Janus glanced suspiciously at the window. “I shall not let them near me.”

“Fine, fine, no birds.” Remus blew a raspberry at Janus, who stuck out his tongue. “At this rate, we won’t have a single possibility left.”

“There’s still a good amount.” Janus read off the list. “Geckos, lizards etc, dogs, cats, rats, snakes, spiders, weasels and ferrets.”

“Geckos or lizards?” Remus thought about it. “They’re not very cuddly.”

“So?” Janus gestured at him. “I already cuddle with you, I don’t need another cuddly animal.”

“It’d be nice to, like, _hold_ it though. Pet it.” Remus petted the air as an example. “Hairy!”

“Hairy means _shedding_ ,” Janus argued. “I’m not getting fur all over my shirt.”

“Spiders don’t shed!” Remus suggested. “And some of them are real hairy.”

“I hate spiders.”

“Why?”

“Just do.”

“Well, I hate geckos,” Remus decided. “‘Cause I said so.”

Janus let out a long breath. “Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way. What animal, out of these, do you _want_ to have?”

Remus hummed and looked at the list. Dog, cat, rabbit--all too _mainstream_. A gecko was slimy. A snake had no arms, and that was sad. Ferrets were cool, but not really what Remus would _choose--_

_“_ What do _you_ want?” Remus asked.

Janus made a non-committal noise that signified he’d already made his choice and was just trying to be nice. “You?”

“On three,” Remus said. “Three--two--one--”

“Snake.”

“Rat.”

They both stared at each other for a moment.

“ _Rat?”_ Janus finally said. “You can’t just grab something out of the sewer and call it a pet. We talked about this.”

“No, no, a _nice_ rat!” Remus bounced up from the sofa. “A pet one! People have those, right? We could get a rat. It’s furry but I don’t think it sheds, it doesn’t take up much space--please?”

“Huh,” Janus said. He looked back to the paper and circled _rat_. “Alright, that can be our first possibility.”

“And you said snake?”

“Snake,” Janus said, his eyes lighting up. “Perhaps a corn snake? Any sort of snake would work.”

“Alright,” Remus said. “Snake.”

Janus happily circled _snake_ on the list before sitting on the couch and grabbing the unopened bag of chips. Remus made grabby hands and Janus passed him a few chips. Remus munched on the chips and Janus looked like he was thinking.

“Rat or snake?” Janus finally asked.

“Both?”

“Sure, put a rat and a _snake_ together, they’ll get along _great_.”

“Separate terrariums?”

“Defeats the purpose of cuddling.” Janus popped a chip into his mouth. “Besides, I don’t think we can spring for _two_ pets. We’ll barely be able to afford one.”

“We don’t have to pay for the electric bill,” Remus suggested. “We can light a fire, like cavemen.”

“Arson isn’t the answer to _everything_.”

“You just lack imagination.”

“We’ll have to choose one,” Janus said. “And since any vote we have is a tie--”

“Nose goes!” Remus smacked himself in the face. “Ow!”

Janus hadn’t even budged. “No.”

“I won the nose goes!”

“We’re going to do this like civilized partners.” Janus leaned forward. “We’re going to discuss this, listen to each other, and come to a reasonable conclusion.”

Remus groaned. “Come _on_. Can’t we draw straws?”

“This is a _pet_ we’re talking about, not who does the dishes!” Janus waved his hand. “A living, breathing _animal_. We need to take this seriously! It’s a big decision!”

“If you wanted to take it seriously, you shouldn’t have agreed right away and skipped lunch over it,” Remus pointed out. “You jumped into this just like I did.”

“Well, you were being all--” Janus twisted his face. “ _Excited_. I got swept up in the moment.”

“Aw, really?” Remus’ eyes widened. “Aww, Jan, you’re such a _softie--_ ”

“Shut up,” Janus complained, swatting at Remus’ face. “Shut _up_.”

“You _love_ me.”

“Yes, we’re _engaged_ , that’s been _established_ , shut _up_.” Janus huffed, his face dark with blush. “The point is, we rushed into this.”

“Yeah, duh.”

“This is probably a terrible idea.”

“Like usual, yeah.”

“We shouldn’t even _get_ a pet, there’s no reason to--”

“Oh, see, that’s where you’re wrong.” Remus spread his hands. “There isn’t a reason _not_ to.”

Janus stared at him for a second. “That’s all you’ve got?”

“Yep!”

“Okay.” Janus nodded. “Okay, fine. Rat or snake?”

“Hmm.” Remus thought about it. “Rats have cool tails!”

“So do snakes,” Janus said. “Snakes have fangs.”

“Rats have cool little feet.”

“Snakes have scales.”

“Rats can spread rabies, I think.”

“That’s not a _good_ thing!” Janus paused. “Also, can’t snakes spread salmonella?”

“I’d much rather have rabies.” Remus blew out a long breath. “You really want a snake, don’t you?”

“I don’t want _any_ pet, this was _your_ idea.” Janus waited a few seconds, and Remus let him wait. “I--I would prefer a snake, though. Patton had one back in college, it sat on my shoulders while I studied. I liked it.”

“Then--” Remus swallowed. “Then sure. Snake.”

“What?” Janus’ eyebrows came together. “Remus, are you sure--”

“Snakes are cool! Very sneaky and cool, and some of them are poisonous.” Remus leaned forward and bumped Janus’ shoulder. Janus instinctively leaned into him, and Remus pulled Janus closer and into his lap. “I don’t mind, Jan.”

“It was your idea to get a pet,” Janus said weakly. “Besides, rats are also cool! You could have an army, like the Pied Piper.”

“Snakes can swallow mice whole!”

“Rats can jump more than three feet in the air!”

“Snakes don’t have _arms!”_

Janus opened his mouth to fire back, and Remus screwed up his face in preparation to retaliate.

Janus giggled.

Remus snickered.

And they both burst out laughing.

“You could be the rat king,” Janus forced out between laughs. “You could rule the--the city.”

“You could use your snake to hypnotize people,” Remus countered.

“You could--” Janus dissolved into giggles and leaned into Remus’ chest. Remus tucked his chin on top of Janus’ head and enjoyed the way Janus melted into his arms.

“We don’t have to decide now,” Remus said after he managed to control his laughter. “Like, not even _close_ to now. It’s been twenty minutes.”

“Fair, we should have an actual lunch.” Janus kicked aside the chip bag and glanced at the paper. “We did go a bit overboard--I don’t even know where we could _get_ a pet.”

Remus watched Janus stand up and start to clean up the mess. They definitely didn’t _need_ to figure it out, but Remus kinda did want to pursue this--at least because of the excitement in Janus’ eyes every time Remus pulled him into something stupid and ill-advised.

Deciding on a pet--one pet--was definitely the normal thing to do.

Since when had they ever been normal?

“Hey,” Remus said, “it’s not too cold outside, right?”

“I don’t think so?” Janus glanced out the window. “Why?”

Remus grinned and jumped off the couch. “I’m pretty sure there’s an animal shelter a few blocks away.”

“You’re kidding.” Janus’ mouth twitched. “We can’t just walk into there without a plan--”

“Why not?” Remus shrugged. “Society is a lie, right?”

Janus’ mouth twitched again, and he bit his lip to hide his smile. “We have lunch.”

“We’ll grab some on the way there!” Remus tilted his head and gave Janus puppy dog eyes. “Please? We can just take a peek at the animals they have. See what we bond with. Steal one. And ask if a rat and a snake could possibly get along.”

“They can’t,” Janus said. “They’d kill each other.”

“You said that about us, too! Our second date!” Remus grabbed Janus’ hand. “And look at us, still alive and un-murdered.”

“Don’t count on it,” Janus said, but his eyes had softened. “You’re serious about this?”

“Serious as ever!” Remus shrugged. “Look, it’s this or I go back to Plan A and steal a rich person’s baby.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Kiss my beautiful patootie.”

“Ugh.” Janus ducked around Remus and grabbed his phone. “This will be a quick trip, right? Should I bring a carrier for whatever we decide on?”

“They’ll have those, right?” Remus darted over to the kitchen and pulled out a garbage bag. “Will this work?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s animal cruelty.”

“Aw.”

Janus pulled back his hair and grabbed his keys. Remus shrugged on a jacket. Janus gave the apartment one cursory check and, apparently finding no dead bodies, turned away.

“We’re really doing this?” Remus asked. “You’re okay with it?”

Janus paused and nodded. “Wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. I promise I’m along for the ride.”

Remus pressed a kiss to Janus’ cheek and enjoyed the way Janus stammered. “Great.”

“Don’t _do_ that,” Janus complained. Remus knew it wasn’t a complaint. They knew each other like that. It had been such a long time since they met at three in the morning and thwarted campus security, and Remus had learned so much about Jan, and Jan had done the same. And they’d both figured out there was stuff they didn’t _need_ to know.

Like a game plan. Or a way to fit a new pet into the apartment. Or a way to sneak it past their landlord, who Remus suddenly realized might not like pets.

But it was way more of an adventure not knowing.

Remus loved to leap into every idea.

And Remus loved that Janus always took the leap, too.

“You promise this is fine?” Remus asked.

“Yes,” Janus said. “And _you_ promise not to make a nuisance of yourself in the shelter?”

“Nope!” Remus grinned. “You’re stuck with me.”

“Good.” Janus pulled the door open and smiled. “It wouldn’t be any fun otherwise.”

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is @averykedavra!


End file.
